747
by Miss Peg
Summary: Jane's last night in Paris doesn't go as planned
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note** **: Hello, my old friends! It's been a while. Life has been very busy but I have been working on a story. It's not yet finished and I'd like it to be complete and tidied up before I share. Instead I found inspiration for a short story, at least two chapters long but it may end up four or five. Let's take a trip to a Paris...**

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"A whole month," Jane said, kicking off her shoes and falling backwards onto the couch. Everything had changed in just thirty days. Now they were at the end, on the precipice of the rest of her life, changed beyond recognition.

Maura perched on the seat beside her. She bowed her head slightly, enough to remind Jane how difficult the next day would be. "It's hard to believe it's over."

"It's hard to believe I lasted that long," Jane said, stretching her arms across the back of the couch. She needed to pretend, a little while longer, that this was her new normal.

"Why?" Maura narrowed her eyes. "I would have said it's hard to believe you have been in Paris for a month and have learned very little French."

"That's not true!" Jane shouted, sitting forward. She had been cajoled and prodded and yet had insisted against speaking the local language. She didn't need to; she had Maura, willing enough for the both of them.

"Isn't it?"

She grinned. "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?"

Raising an eyebrow, Maura stared at Jane, her mouth slightly parted. "Do you even know what that means?"

She shrugged. "No."

"You asked me if I would sleep with you."

Jane rolled her eyes, her breath caught ever so slightly in her throat. She tilted her head to one side and chewed on her bottom lip. "Never mind French. In all seriousness, it's been the best month of my life."

"The best?" Maura asked, leaning back.

"Yes." Jane settled beside her. Tears threatened to choke her. She wanted to breath easily but the reality of her life choices forced her to feel more than she was willing to allow. "Makes me wanna quit my job and move to Paris."

"Maybe if you'd spent the last month learning French, you could do."

Jane tried to smile but the creases round her eyes barely faltered. "Can't teach an old dog new tricks."

"You're not old!"

"No." Sometimes she felt old, when she thought about it. Who did she think she was to be starting a new career? She was born to be a cop, after she realised it wasn't necessary to become a plumber like her father. The career path she chose for herself inspired her brother. He was who he was because of her. Why was she so willing to throw it all away for somewhere she openly hated?

"I didn't know it was possible to feel this happy," Maura whispered. She pressed her lips tightly together. The great gasp of air she took in made her sound like she was about to inflate a balloon. "And this sad, all at the same time."

Closing her eyes, Jane breathed in slowly. She gritted her teeth. She couldn't do this, not without Maura. "Are you sure you won't come back to the US with me?"

Lowering her gaze, Maura shook her head. "I'm sure. Boston isn't the same now you're not going to be living there."

"There's more to Boston than me," Jane said, trying to fight her own fears. It didn't work, not that she ever expected it to.

"What are you saying, Jane?"

"I dunno." She sat forward, twisting her body. Her eyelids drooped. Her heart ached. Jane reached for her hand. "Selfishly, I want you in the same country as me."

"It's only an eight hour flight."

"Eight hours and a bucket load of money."

Maura opened her eyes wide. "I have the money. If that's what you're worried about, I can afford it."

"I don't!" Jane said, narrowing her eyes. Money had never been an issue between them, despite the difference in zeros at the end of their annual salary. She wasn't about to start arguing about it now.

"That doesn't matter," Maura said. "I'll pay."

"I can't expect you to do that."

"Why not? I want to. You're my family."

Gripping the edges of her jeans, Jane closed her eyes again. A tear strolled down the side of her face. Her mother was sat at home, waiting for her return, looking forward to the day she informed her she was safely in Washington DC teaching instead of roaming the streets of Boston looking for trouble. While Maura sat in her new apartment in Paris. Thousands of miles from home. "Stop. You're gonna make me cry."

"Don't cry," Maura said, brushing the tear from her cheek. "It'll make me cry."

The physical touch of Maura's fingers against her skin made it worse. Despite the lack of strength in her voice, Jane persevered. "I haven't told you I love you enough times."

Swiping her fingers across her own eyelids, Maura pressed her lips tightly together. "You don't need to. I know."

Jane stood up. Fresh tears followed the tear that Maura wiped away. She spun around and wandered over to the window. The large glass door showed off a Parisian scene something akin to the movies. Sans le Eiffel Tower. She shook her head. "Why is this so difficult?"

Maura followed her across the room and they stood, shoulder to shoulder, staring out across the Arc de Triomphe. "We have another twelve hours."

"It's not enough." Jane cleared her throat. They could have twelve days and it still wouldn't be enough. "I need to sleep. Even if I didn't, it's not long enough."

"I suppose you are right."

Turning, Jane stared into her eyes. Her breath caught, stranded in her throat. "How do I do this?"

"Leave Paris?" Maura asked, turning to face her.

"Leave everything." She lowered her gaze, gasping for air. "You."

"You spent the last month away from everything," Maura said.

"But I was with you." Maura being beside her made everything easier. She was the gentle push towards her retirement from front line policing and into something more. She was the reason she even considered doing more with her life. She was the one thing in life that always made sense. Until now. "You're home. I don't know what I'll do in DC without you. I don't know how to live without you."

Maura's bottom lip quavered. "You lived without me just fine for years."

"It's not the same."

"We can Skype every night. This isn't the end."

"It's the end as we know it."

"Don't be so melodramatic."

"I'm not melodramatic." She just couldn't bear the thought of a future without working and living near to Maura. "I've lived in the same city since I was born. I've moved half a dozen times at most, and that was pretty much just in the last year."

She cleared her throat, her voice shifted from emotional to emotionless in a split second. "You're going to have the best time in DC."

"How do you know?"

"You'll make friends."

"You have met me, haven't you?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

"When you let people in."

"I don't need anyone else."

"You do." Her resolve broke apart, revealing the vulnerable fruit of Maura's insecurities. "It's important you try to meet new people."

"I don't need new people!"

"You do need new people."

"I don't want anything to change this," she whispered, struggling to compose herself. They were slipping closer to the edge, to the end of the night when it would be all over.

"Change what?" Maura asked. Jane stared at her. She couldn't be playing the fool, Maura didn't do that. Nor did she really pick up on the realities of their relationship.

"Me and you," Jane said, slowly, forcing the words out in the simplest way she could. She searched for the things she longed to say, but they got stuck, stranded in the abyss until she found new words. "Our friendship."

"Our friendship changed long ago."

Her breath hitched. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Twisting her fingers around the fabric of her jeans again, she tried not to hope for the best. "What do you mean?"

"You're my family." The words overshadowed everything else pulling them in a different direction leaving Jane disappointed. She wiped at fresh tears, conscious of how Maura attempted to disguise them in her voice. "Nothing needs to change. I will always be here, no matter how many miles between us. You gave me a family when I needed it the most."

She closed her eyes and covered her eyes. "Maura."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Jane opened her eyes and stared into Maura's. She stepped forward, scooping her up into her arms, hands spread across her back, holding her close. The seconds turned to minutes. Jane rested her cheek against Maura's hair and closed her eyes, lapping every second up. She could feel Maura stepping back. Regret followed a feeling of deflation. They'd reached the end. The moment when everything was going to change and they would never see each other again. Probably. Staring into Maura's eyes, Jane felt the magnetic pull. She rested a hand on each of Maura's cheeks, leaning down until her lips touched Maura's. She didn't move, frozen under her touch. Jane moved her lips slowly in an attempt to spring Maura's response to life. When nothing happened, she pulled back.

She shook her head and put distance between them. A brief clearance of the throat and she was ready to speak. She only hoped her actions hadn't destroyed the small chance they had of staying in touch. "It's bed time."

"Jane," Maura whispered, her voice sprang to life.

"Goodnight Maura," she muttered, spinning round and heading for her bedroom.

"Jane!"

The desperation in her voice barely matched the embarrassment spread across her own face. She continued on her path. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay." Disappointment. Sadness. Jane didn't stop moving. She wondered if Maura knew that it would be the last moment they'd spend together. "Goodnight."

x

Maura woke to the sounds of the city in the streets below the apartment building. Cars travelled through tiny streets, a man shouted to his dog in French, friends greeted each other. She stretched her arms above her head, her thoughts a jumbled mess. She checked the time: ten forty six am. Her heart raced. She sprang out of bed in little more than her nightdress and sprinted through the apartment to Jane's bedroom. Stopping in the doorway, a lump formed in the back of her throat. Somehow it didn't surprise her to find that Jane's bed was made up, the room absent of her belongings.

"Jane?" she whispered, quiet desperation in her voice. She walked into the en suite and stared at her reflection. Two small semi-circles below her eyes didn't reflect the amount of sleep she'd had.

Tears built up against her eyelashes. She swiped at her eyelids, brushing them away before they could fall. She clenched her first around the satin nightdress. She was disappointed. It didn't surprise her, but she was still heartbroken to realise how easily Jane had slipped out in the early hours.

Why had her alarm failed her? Or should she be asking how Jane had managed to retrieve her cellphone before it went off? They'd talked about the journey to the airport countless times, or more accurately, she had. Jane had never said a word.

Now it all made sense. She didn't want to say goodbye, not in the place where goodbyes lingered for eternity.

She returned to her own en suite and stood under the hot stream of water, relishing the relaxing moment. She dressed quickly, ran a comb through her hair and dried it into place. Rushing down the stairs, she hopped into the first available cab.

"Charles de Gaulle," she said, without so much as a sil vous plait.

The driver didn't question her. She didn't question herself. She was going to the airport without her luggage, with only her purse and the clothes on her back. It didn't matter. She had clothes in Boston.

Which didn't really help her when Jane was on the way to Washington. She tried Jane's cell phone, to no avail. She'd probably already switched out the French SIM card for her American one. She tried her other number, but once again received no response.

She paid the driver on arrival and sped through the airport to the ticket counters, doubting her knowledge that they still existed in the age of internet bookings. She stopped in front of the desk and, with her heart pounding against her chest, she forged a smile.

"I need a ticket for the first available flight to DC, quickly!"

"Pardon, Madam?" The woman's French was thick, though Maura suspected it was merely her accent and the choice of words she'd used.

"Parlez vous Anglais?"

"Yes, Madam, I speak English," she said, her fluency shone through, despite the accentuation of her Parisian accent. "You want a ticket to DC, would you care to elaborate on the location of DC?"

"Washington DC, in the United States," she said, staring at the Delta airlines sign above her head. "America. Quickly."

"Washington DC, we have two flights today but one is already in the process for boarding, why do you need it so hurriedly, Madam?"

"What do you mean why?" She stared at her, her mouth open. Her heart slowed only slightly. "I need the first available flight to Washington DC as soon as a seat is available."

"Are you…I mean, you seem," she paused, the crease between her eyebrows deepened. She looked to her left side, then to her right. Maura's desperation only increased the longer she deliberated. "Is there a reason why I shouldn't book you the flight?"

"Why wouldn't you book me a flight?" Maura asked. "I need to get home. Now."

She lowered her gaze again, then stood up and glanced over the counter before picking up the phone beside her. "I should maybe call my superior."

"Why?"

"In case…you could be…are you trying to evade the police?"

"Evade the…no." Maura clutched her purse to her side and stared at her aghast. "Why would you think such a thing?"

"Most people don't come here demanding I book them a flight right without their baggage."

"Of course I'm not evading the law. I am a law abiding citizen," Maura said. "Unless you count the gum I stole in middle school. My parents hadn't spoken to me for six days, I thought it might get me some attention but it didn't."

"Excuse me?" she asked, narrowing her eyes further.

"I'm not a criminal. I need to go home. I have to speak to someone I care about."

The woman's frown barely softened as she sat back down. She clicked the computer mouse a couple of times and began typing. "You do know there's internet and telephones, don't you? They would be a lot faster and not quite so expensive."

"Well, of course I do. But some things cannot be said over Facetime."

"Of course." She continued to tap away at the computer.

"Are you booking the flight or do I have to find another airline?"

As though the last five minutes of conversation hadn't occurred, the woman's smile shone like a typical air hostess serving coffee to a couple she had seen leaving the restrooms one after the other. "How soon would you like?"

"I told you, immediately. The first available flight. The sooner I can get home, the better."

"The flight for one twenty-five has just a moment ago been prepared for boarding, there is no time for security."

"I know. My friend is on that flight."

"I'm sorry we cannot get you a seat on that flight."

"I know! How soon til the next one?"

"The flight will take at least eight hours, that doesn't include time waiting before boarding."

"I know it doesn't include waiting time. How long until the flight departs?"

"Four hours."

"Four...are there no sooner flights? Maybe on another airline? Or an airline that goes faster?"

"There are no faster airlines, Madam, this is not the concord."

"No, it most certainly isn't. I would have appreciated needing this journey in nineteen eighty nine, then it wouldn't take so long to cross the Atlantic."

"I have an economy seat on the four twenty flight to Washington DC, United States of America."

"Do you have any in business class?"

"No. Business and first class are fully booked."

"Oh."

"I can check later flights for you, Madam."

"No. No. I don't have time. That will have to do."

x

The apartment smelled like pee, and sweat, and everything that didn't feel like home. No matter how many air fresheners or scented candles she used, she couldn't rid the place of its history. She lay a sheet on the couch, the very stained couch. She regretted letting the FBI provide her with a furnished rental, and bought a newspaper the second she arrived, if only to start the process of finding her own. She had yet to accumulate new furniture after the fire, so she was able to start again, and with the increase in her wages, she could start sooner rather than later.

It would take a couple of weeks for the internet to be installed, and even then she wasn't sure she'd have much time to use it. Maybe all she really needed was to acquaint herself with her local coffee house and borrow theirs. Then again, the next time she talked to Maura she knew she'd insist upon her having her own.

If she ever spoke to her again.

Leaving in the early hours of the morning wasn't really fair on her. They'd spent every moment of the last month together, bar a few hours here and there, and Jane knew it was an insult to their friendship to abandon her at the last second.

A knock at the apartment door pulled her from her reverie. She crossed her fingers and toes that her new neighbours were not wishing to greet her. Without a second thought, she tugged open the door, then stepped back.

"Maura..." She didn't know what else to say, or do, except stand there staring at her. She didn't know where she stood. Whether Maura was angry, whether Maura was confused, whether Maura wanted to whisk her back to Paris, no argument necessary.

"Why did you kiss me?" she asked, staring at her as though she'd merely walked into the next room the night before.

Clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, Jane clung to the doorframe, regretting it as something unpleasant touched her hand. She dropped it to her side. "No hello?"

"Jane," Maura whispered, emotion seeped into her words.

"You came all this way to ask me that?" She stepped aside, inviting her in with a flick of her hand. "How much did that cost?"

Maura walked inside. "You kissed me. I want to know why."

The moment had arrived faster than she anticipated. In reality it could have happened instantly, but after she kissed her she hoped it would merely be too much of a surprise that Maura wouldn't know what to do with it. She didn't expect...this. "I...I dunno."

"You don't know?" Maura closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. "Jane, I travelled six thousand one hundred and ninety three miles and you don't know?"

"Do you need an Advil?" she asked, walking across the room and rooting through a small toiletries case. She held out the box. "I didn't ask you to come here!"

Maura shook her head. "Didn't you?"

"No." Jane dropped the packet onto the couch and slouched down beside it.

"You kissed me!"

"I was..." Telling you how much you mean to me. Trying to show you that I see you as more than a friend. She dropped her head into her hands and sighed. "Saying goodbye."

"Friends do not say goodbye by kissing each other." She stood in front of her, shadowing over her. Jane wanted to look up but the mere thought of locking eyes with Maura sent her head into a spin.

She shrugged. Making a big deal out of it was one reason she was glad to leave without saying goodbye. She hadn't planned it. She was never going to say goodbye at the airport, but the kiss, that wasn't part of her plan. "They do in Paris."

"Not like that."

Jane shook her head. She ran her fingers through her dark mane and stared at her, avoiding her eyes. "I didn't ask you to come. I don't know why you're here. It was too hard to say goodbye, why are you making it harder?"

"Me?" Maura narrowed her eyes. "I'm not the one who confused the situation by kissing me."

"I was saying goodbye," Jane repeated, regretting it the second she spoke. But she didn't know how else to deal with what she'd done. She wanted to say goodbye, she wanted to show Maura what she meant to her. Then she was supposed to stay in Paris, leaving Jane alone in DC, miles from the mistake she didn't want to make. If she admitting what she'd done everything would change and she wasn't about to ruin the remaining sliver of friendship they had left now they lived on opposite sides of the globe.

Tears overflowed from Maura's eyelids. "I stood in line for almost two hours. I had a full pat down at security because I had forgotten about the nail file in my purse. I came all this way."

"But I didn't ask you to come," Jane whispered. Disappointment spread once again across Maura's face. "I'm sorry. Look, we're both probably shattered; it's late, it's even later French time."

"I should go," Maura said, wiping at her cheeks and twisting round.

"Wait," Jane gripped her arm. "At least stay for dinner. I have a tin of tuna fish from nineteen eighty five and a bag of cheese puffs, but I'm sure there'll be a restaurant round here."

"No." Maura shook her head. "As you said, we've both had a long day. Being several hours behind will only be making it worse. I'm tired. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather check into a hotel and go to sleep."

Jane shrugged. "Okay. When do you go back?"

"Back where?" Jane frowned. Maura closed her eyes. "Paris? I didn't plan that far ahead."

Ignoring the obvious diversion from Maura's normality, Jane nodded and stood up. She pulled open the front door. She didn't want to push her away, but she didn't know how else she was going to survive living so far apart. "Goodnight, Maura."

Maura nodded and headed for the door, her tone terse. "Goodnight."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note : Thanks so much for all of the lovely comments - I'm sorry it's taken so long to get a second chapter up. Apparently I had no idea where this story was going, I still don't, really. I do this sometimes, start projects without considering what will happen next. It causes a block that delays the writing of the story. Plus, life. It's been very busy. I hate excuses, but they are mine.**

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The air hostess rushed down the aisle and past Maura's seat. A middle seat. One reason she didn't choose economy was to avoid the fate of a middle seat position. She knew there were choices when booking but she feared the day she'd try to secure a window or aisle seat and be stuck with a middle.

"Excuse me," she shouted, but the air hostess continued on down the plane away from her row.

"Excuse _me_ , actually," said the man by the window. Three hours in and he was on his sixth bathroom break. Another reason she detested such a seat. In the aisle she could swing her legs or stand up, stretch and sit back down. In the middle she actually had to move, and disrupt other passengers in order to do so.

"Excuse you _both_ ," the air hostess shouted, rushing towards them. Maura jumped back into the row, following by the man who pushed her forwards. She kept moving until they ran, his hands on her back, pushing her through an open doorway that replaced the window of the plane.

His hands disappeared. Maura glanced up. Her feet were on worn wooden flooring. The room was not unlike Jane's new apartment. Grotty, untidy and in desperate need of a complete renovation. The couch filled the whole room, one end against the wall, the other pressed to the edge of the breakfast bar that matched Jane's old condo. Sat on the arm, leaning against the breakfast bar, was the dark, curly haired woman she wasn't yet ready to see again.

"Jane!"

She turned to her, her eyes narrowed and her lips taut. "You shouldn't have come, Maura. Why would you think the kiss meant anything? You're deluded. You've always been deluded to think that my family are your family. Go home. You don't belong here."

Tears filled her eyes, strolling down her cheeks in cool strips. She opened her mouth to speak. Jane shook her head and reached a hand out to her shoulder. The second her fingers touched the fabric of her dress, the edge of her skin, Maura opened her eyes.

Jane was nowhere in sight. A blonde haired young woman stared at her, her crisp blue uniform sat a little askew. "Doctor Isles, we've found a room for you."

She rubbed at her eyes. "Pardon?"

"We have a room. I'm sorry about the delay, someone was due to check in yesterday for a week, and has yet to show up. We had to follow it up and make sure the room was available for resale."

"Oh." The dream dissipated, the room came into focus and she felt herself return to the world in front of her. "You've found me a room."

"Yes." She ran her fingers across Maura's shoulder and crouched down in front of her. "Is everything alright?"

"Sorry." Maura sat a little higher in the chair. "I've just flown back from Paris."

"Ah. I understand. I'll get someone to bring your luggage to your room."

Pursing her lips, Maura felt tears prick her eyes. "I have no luggage."

"Did the airline lose it?" she asked, looking crestfallen. "How awful. Would you like me to get some nightwear for you?"

Maura shook her head. "I don't wear lost property."

"I can get one of the girls to head out to the store down the street. We can charge it to your room. Ordinarily I'd give you directions, but you're a Gold Star Member. If you write down your measurements and what you'd like I can ask Cherise to go."

Her eyes filled again, overflowing quickly down her cheeks. She brushes the tears aide. "I couldn't ask you to do that."

The woman rested her hand on Maura's shoulder again, she felt comforted.

"What's your name?"

The woman smiled. "Jane."

Maura lifted her hands onto her lap, clasping them together, controlling the shake that insisted on taking over. She tried to smile, but inside her heart was breaking.

"It's my pleasure," the other Jane said, her smile never faltering. "Your custom is appreciated and this would be one of the many ways we can thank you for your choosing our hotel brand on a regular basis."

"But..."

"Forgive me if I'm speaking out of line; you don't appear up to walking to your room, let alone five blocks and back. I'll have Peter show you to your room and take a room service order. Unless you'd rather go straight to sleep."

"Thank you," Maura whispered, sniffling and wiping fresh tears from her face. "For your kindness. I'd like to go to my room. I can sleep in my underwear. I'll go to the store tomorrow."

"If that's your choice," the other Jane said. "I'll find Peter."

x

The lumps in the mattress dug into Jane's back in the wrong place. The room smelled stale like damp had set in long ago and dried up in the summer heat. Every time she moved, the plastic sheet she'd placed under her crinkled. Aside from the obvious reasons why her first night in her new city wasn't going well, she also had Maura on her mind. When she left she looked heartbroken and Jane didn't know what to do with that. She blamed herself, rightly so. She didn't have to push her out the door, or practically demand she head back to Paris, but she didn't know how else to explain to Maura how she felt.

By two forty-five, Jane climbed out of bed. Sleep was a long way away. She checked her cell phone for the time in Paris. By now they'd be up and dressed, taking a stroll down the street to the **boulangerie** for fresh bread. She didn't know her new neighbourhood yet, but she put on a clean pair of joggers and wandered out into the night.

At the end of the road her mind caught up with her reality. There would be no fresh bread. She didn't really know what she expected to find. Instead, she returned to the apartment, picked up her keys and headed for the parking garage. Her new, state issued, vehicle awaited her and she wasted no time in trying out the GPS.

A couple miles from the apartment she found an all-night home store filled with everything she could possibly have asked for, and an awful lot of items she didn't realise she needed. With the cart piled high with fresh bed linen, toiletries, a mattress topper and crockery, Jane returned to the hovel she'd escaped from.

The mattress topper and fresh linen smelled new, going a little way to cover up the stale scent that seemed to get the worse after returning from the semi-polluted streets outside. She lay back down, her head against a new pillow, her back settled firmly against the mattress topper. Still she couldn't sleep.

Maura was out there, somewhere, alone and confused. She regretted her words, yet found none that could suitably replace them. Despite that she dialled Maura's number and waited, and waited, until it went to voicemail.

"Maura," she whispered. She cleared her throat, forcing strength into the words she didn't know how to say. "I...please...call me."

Dropping her phone onto the painted floorboards of her bedroom, Jane cringed at the crunch of it hitting the hard wood. She made a note to be careful picking it up, to avoid the chipped paint. She lay back and closed her eyes. Why couldn't she find the words?

An hour into a doze and the phone rattled against the wood. She lowered her arm down and scooped it up, cursing as a piece of chipped paint wedged itself up here fingernail. She assessed the damage, removing the small, white shards before sucking on it like a teething baby. The phone in her left hand, she clumsily opened up the message from Maura.

Acre Hotel, 256-263 Pimlott Avenue

She stared at it in its briefness. Maura had got her voicemail, why else would she send an SMS? She also hadn't rung back, which told her how angry she was. She lay back against we pillow and groaned. Twenty four hours ago they were both grinning like Cheshire cats, cautious of the following wing day, now they were distanced in both space and emotion.

Crawling to the end of her bed, she unlatched her laptop bag from her suitcase and opened it. The one thing she was grateful for was the connected wifi that the FBI had already set up for her. Keying in the address, she watched the map pinpoint the location to a street in the centre of the city.

She vaguely recalled the name Acer Hotel from an overnight stay they'd taken on their trip to Paris, and from an itinerary when Maura went to a medical conference in Toronto.

Jumping off her bed and closing her laptop, Jane sprang into the shower, barely stripping off before the water hit her body.

x

Traffic buzzed outside the window, overshadowing the gentle vibrations of her cell phone on the bedside cabinet. A chill travelled across her bare shoulders, one that had worked its way down to her bones in the night. She barely opened her eyes, dragging the sheet around her body until warmth returned to her upper torso.

She picked up her cell and blinked a couple of times, forcing her eyes to focus on the dimly lit screen. It was already lunch time. She hadn't specifically requested the hotel room for longer than a night, yet she missed the usual check out time.

In the middle of her phone screen, beneath the time, was a message from Jane. She pursed her lips, readying herself for the words.

 _I'll be there at one._

She sat upright. Her heart raced and her body, though utterly relaxed despite the unappreciated wakening in the night, sprang into action. She had fifteen minutes to shower, get dressed, and...she groaned.

She still didn't have anything more than the clothes she arrived in. Cursing her modest arrival, Maura regretted not foreseeing a solution to the next day's problem. She hadn't expected to be pulled from her sleep. She barely remembered responding to Jane.

The stream of water stung her skin until she adjusted to the temperature. It didn't take long to wake herself up fully, or feel refreshed. The hurry distracted her from the impending arrival, from the conversation she didn't really want to have.

Thinking about what was to come made her cheeks flush and her heart race. She didn't usually feel embarrassed by a chaste kiss after spending time with someone important.

But most people were not Jane Rizzoli.

Most people didn't kiss her like the whole world no longer mattered.

Or maybe she'd read more into the moment than Jane had intended. She made her true intentions clear the day before, when sleep was sorely needed and Maura felt emotionally heavy.

The jovial knock at the door barely matched the image Maura had in her head of the last time she saw Jane. The kiss had changed everything, the night before had changed so much more. She hesitated, her hand rested on the door handle, waiting for the courage to open the door. When it didn't arrive, she went ahead and opened it anyway.

"Hey," Jane said, the tangled mess of curls from the night before were neatly pulled back in a hair tie.

"Good afternoon," Maura said, cordiality was all she knew to do in the moment.

Neither of them spoke. The silence drifted onwards, lingering between them like a mountain. Maura opened her mouth, desperate to find the words to climb over to the other side, but the mountain was too high and she didn't know where to begin.

"You're still here," Jane said, narrowing her eyes, doubt passed over them, mixed with other emotions that Maura couldn't read.

"Yes."

"How long for?"

How long did she intend to stay? She had no answer, only questions that she hadn't yet considered. She shrugged, the action alien where usually she used her words. Jane stared at her like she's grown three heads. Maura stepped away from the door, leaving it open. She had no energy for a difficult conversation, not did she much appreciate Jane's arrival only for silence to follow.

The door clicked shut before Maura turned back around. Jane's eyes stared her down, forcing her to stare back into her brown orbs. The intensity of that moment broke her heart, and left her breathless.

"I…" Maura shook her head and turned back to the window. The street below bustled with people going about their daily lives. A man carried a paper McDonalds bag. A woman chased a small child, clutching hold to a piece of material wrapped around her wrist.

When Jane spoke, it was almost unexpected. "Why did you come, Maura?"

"We've already discussed this," she said, lowering her gaze as she moved back towards her. "I don't want to get into an argument."

"Then…let's go for a walk."

Narrowing her eyes, Maura stared at Jane, forcing their eyes to lock for the briefest moment before Jane looked away. "Why?"

"Why not?"

"Everything has changed, that's why not."

"It doesn't have to," Jane said, stepping forward. She reached a hand out, her fingertips brushed across Maura's wrist. Her voice weakened. "Let's pretend we're back in Paris, when everything was easier. When we were just…"

"Friends?"

" _Us_."

She picked up her purse, retrieved her key card from the electrical slot by the door, and motioned for Jane to follow her. In silence, they made their way down to the street, and along the road. Maura had no idea where she was, or where they were going.

For a while, it didn't really matter. They strolled along, side by side, their shoulders touched on occasion until they moved away only to drift back together again. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words disappeared into the noise of the city streets.

"You hungry?" Jane asked.

She wasn't sure, though her stomach groaned; she didn't feel like she had much of an appetite. "I could eat."

"Great! I know of a great place."

"Really?" Maura paused, her eyebrows knitted together.

Jane laughed. "No. I've been here five minutes. I don't have a clue."

"We passed a diner a moment ago; perhaps we could go back there."

"What was it like?"

"I don't recall much. It was clean, and there were a number of people inside."

"Let's go then!"

x

The diner had emptied by the time they entered. The room was warm, friendly. Maura noted the amateur paintings on the wall, with for sale tags hanging from each one. They sat on wooden chairs at a table by the window. Maura watched people walk past the window as Jane talked about the menu.

"Guess I won't be coming here again."

"Why not?" Maura asked, wondering why they were sat there, talking about food like they were back in Paris and everything hadn't changed. She felt a disconnect to their lives now. They were so far apart, and yet for a few hours, there they were like nothing had happened.

"No burgers. What sort of diner has no burgers?"

"Yous are clearly missing the menu," said a woman, shoving a pen into her apron tied around her waist. She held out another menu. "Burgers are our speciality, you wanna beer with that or yous wanna stick with coffee, or cola?"

Glancing down at the new menu, Jane's eyes widened and she glanced up at the woman. "I'll get a beer float, and a classic burger, hold the cheese!"

"And for you?"

Maura shook her head. The exchange felt so familiar that she couldn't find the words. "The same."

"The same?" The woman took the menus away. Jane stared at her, her eyebrows tugged together, her brown eyes locked on Maura's hazel ones. Maura shrugged. "You don't even drink beer."

"So?" Maura sighed. "You usually have your burger with cheese."

"You can't go to France for a month then go back to plastic squares of crap."

"They might have other cheese."

"Doubtful."

Once the burgers arrived they sat in relative silence. Maura returned her watchful gaze over the window, and the people out in the street. They could cut the tension in the air with the blunt knives the waitress brought with their burgers.

Maura sipped her beer float. She scrunched up her nose, and swallowed.

"Disgusting, isn't it?" Jane said, a huge grin on her face. She drank another mouthful of her own. Maura forged a smile.

A pair of young women entered the diner, their fingers interlinked. They slid into a booth nearby, on the same side, hands all over each other. Maura felt a lump form in her throat. She wondered what life might be like if she'd been brave enough as a teenager, after college…ever.

"I'll pay," Jane said, once they'd finished eating and the waitress stood over them like they would flee if she left them alone for a second.

"No," Maura said, reaching into her purse, but the waitress was already carrying the check away. "Okay."

They headed back in the direction of the hotel. Maura's composure had vanished somewhere after the young couple had entered the diner. She could barely speak. She retrieved her key card and used it to work the elevator. Jane stepped in beside her, like she did every day in Paris.

"When do you go home?" Jane asked, turning to face her.

Maura angled her body slightly in Jane's direction, but not so much that they were directly facing each other. "I'm not sure."

"You've still got loads to do, with your novel."

Shrugging, Maura stared around the tiny box. "I do."

"You'll be going soon though, right?"

"Right," Maura said. In truth, she didn't know how soon she would go. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to go at all. "I'll probably go back to Boston first, for a visit."

Jane's voice grew smaller. "Why?"

"Why shouldn't I? It's my home."

"I meant," Jane stared down at the floor, her eyes fixed on the space in front of her.

"What did you mean?"

"Doesn't matter."

The elevator doors opened. Maura stepped out and turned around, blocking Jane's exit. "I'll see you around."

Jane's slouched shoulders lifted up and back. She stared into Maura's eyes and with a smile, she nodded. "Yeah. See you around."

Before she could find her voice to say anything more, to ask Jane the questions she wished she'd answer, to say the words she felt too cowardly to speak, the doors closed around her.

A wave of emotion flooded her, surrounding her heart. She pressed the elevator button several times in quick succession. Maura leaned forward, her hands on her thighs. She opened her mouth, capturing the air like a frog attempting to catch flies. The elevator doors opened again. She stood up, her chest ached with anticipation.

The elevator was empty.

Turning tail, Maura rushed down the corridor. She fumbled with her key card in the lock until she was safely in her hotel room. With the door firmly closed behind her, she let out a great gasp. Fresh, hot tears streamed down her cheeks.

* * *

 **I'd be curious to know what you'd like to see happen (aside from the obvious) because I just have no idea how to get from here to the obvious, haha.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author Notes : Thanks everyone for the comments and thoughts - somehow just writing and posting the chapter seemed to push me forward to write more. Even if I didn't use your ideas specifically, please know that each and every thought inspires me in one way or another. So I'm already here with what will probably be the penultimate chapter. I can see it being wrapped up in part four.**

* * *

"I'm sorry, Doctor Isles," hotel Jane said, her face solemn. "There's a conference, we're fully booked from tomorrow. If there was anything I could do, I would."

She pursed her lips, mentally reminding herself not to cry. "What about cancellations?"

"The conference booked out all the rooms themselves. They have so many guests they ask them to share, if there are any cancellations, they ensure everyone has their own room."

"Oh." Blood spread across her face, her capillaries infiltrated, threatening her composure. She clutched the strap of her purse tightly. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so rattled by something as simple as a hotel reservation. "There must be another hotel."

"I'm sorry, Doctor Isles." Jane rested a hand on Maura's wrist, an action that ordinarily would have puzzled her. She doubted she'd ever see the woman again, but they had formed something of a bond over Maura's…visit. "All I can do is ring around a couple of other hotels, or offer you a free night in any hotel in the future."

She nodded. Composure crumbling, Maura nodded her head briefly. "Free night."

Jane entered the information into the computer system and printed off a receipt, along with the invoice for her room. "It's on your record. Any time you book, you will get your free night. I'm sorry again."

"It's fine," Maura whispered. She handed over her card and finalised the bill. She tried to find more words, some sense of gratitude, but her heart thumped too fast and her head ached. She rushed away, up to her room where she packed her bag.

x

The incessant knocking woke Jane from her tumbled sleep. First day on the new job and she felt like she'd been hit by a bus. Jet lag had barely dissipated, instead it was replaced by an overwhelming desire for sleep, and her old bed. She opened the door, a yawn lifted her gaze for a moment. When she looked back into the threshold, her eyes locked with Maura's.

"What you doing here?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. They hadn't spoken in days, excepting a couple of messages. She wasn't even sure Maura was still in the country. Stepping forward, Jane hesitated.

"I couldn't get a flight until tomorrow," Maura said, her eyes glistened. It took a lot of energy not to pull her into her arms, to stroke her hair back from her face and tell her that everything would be okay.

She doubted it would be. Their friendship has crumbled, their comfort level in each other's company had dissipated. Their conjoined lives were a mess. "I thought you left days ago."

"I couldn't get a flight," Maura repeated, her jaw tightened.

The anger in her face broke Jane's heart. She had caused this, she had damaged irreparably the only thing that mattered to her. Trying to fix it would not be easy, any attempts could easily be thwarted. "Shouldn't you be at your hotel?"

"My hotel?" Maura scoffed, on the edge of tears. "They can't house me tonight."

"Oh." She stepped aside. Maura entered the apartment, taking a cursory glance around the room. She'd bought a plant, and some pillows, hung a few pictures. It didn't make much differences, she still hated the place. "Do you need to crash?"

"Crash?" Maura frowned. For a moment, Jane forgot about the drama, and the pain. In her face was the confused woman she knew so well, she pushed the desire to smile away. "Oh. You mean stay the night. Yes. Please."

"Why me?" Jane asked, taking her small case and carrying it towards the bedroom. "Why not another hotel?"

"I tried two. They were fully booked. I don't have the energy."

"I have to go to work," Jane said, dropping the case inside her door and retrieving a towel. "There's spare keys in the bowl."

"The fruit bowl?" Maura asked, walking into the kitchen.

Her lips tightened. They were not on smiling terms. They had lost all sense of friendship, and for that Jane would always be regretful. "Gotta shower. The place is yours."

x

Balancing a takeout pizza and a six pack, Jane pushed the apartment door open and tumbled forward. She stopped, her eyebrows tugged together. The beaten up old couch had been replaced by a brand new one, fabric, just the way she liked it. A lamp sat in the corner basking the room in a gentle glow. A small wooden table, brand new, sat on the other side, with two chairs, set for dinner. In the kitchen, Maura stood by the stove with a pan bubbling.

"Guess I'll have this tomorrow," she said, tossing the pizza on the counter.

"You can eat it," Maura said, nonchalantly. "This is for the freezer."

She placed the beers in the fridge, pulling one out and cracking it open on the edge of the countertop. She stood back, watching Maura, wondering how she could still be so generous when their worlds had collided with Big Bang proportions.

"You didn't have to."

Maura shrugged and placed a lid on the pan. "I had little else to do."

"But," Jane opened her mouth in protest, then closed it again. If they were to part on bad terms, the least she could do was accept Maura's parting gift. "Thank you."

"Your new bed arrives on Friday, after six."

"I already got a new mattress."

"I noticed the packaging, the bed is the correct size for the mattress."

"Okay."

She sat down at the table and sipped her beer. Nothing made sense, yet everything felt normal. Maura cooking while Jane drank beer, there was no normality quite like it. Watching her stir the pot, Jane felt an overwhelming sense of loss.

"I'm sorry," Jane whispered, resting her elbows on the table and burrowing her face into her hands. "I'm sorry I fucked it all up."

x

She still didn't really know why she'd bought so much for Jane, or why she cooked her enough meals to last her the week. She couldn't pinpoint what made her clean the bathroom from top to bottom, or why she felt the need to unpack her suitcase.

She didn't know why she would get on a plane the next day, and leave her to her new life.

Walking across the room, Maura stood beside her bowed head. As if nothing had happened, she wrapped her arms around Jane's shoulders, finding solace in her own forgiveness. Anger pained her too much, and despite the lack of answers, she knew better than to expect more from Jane.

"Let's eat," Maura said, her hand trailed across Jane's back as she returned to the kitchen and grabbed herself a beer.

In silence, they ate overcooked pizza, nibbling at burnt crust, chewing on rubbery pieces of meat. It wasn't the meal Maura expected of their last night together, it was a far cry from the steak and salad they'd eaten in Paris the night everything changed.

"I'll make up the spare bed," Maura said, heading for the couch.

Jane wrapped her fingers tightly around Maura's wrist, tugging her back. She stood beside her, her eyes fixed on Maura's. "Why did you come?"

"What else could I do?"

"Stay in Paris. Find a hotel at the airport."

"Neither of those would have answered my questions."

"Staying in Paris, no. But coming here today?"

"I don't know."

She stood, frozen in place by Jane's fingers on her skin. She edged closer, her eyes still held Maura's. Their world had changed with one kiss, and she could feel them edging closer to a second.

"You're leaving tomorrow?" Jane asked, a sense of relief spread across her face when Maura nodded, her fingers trailed in its wake, stopping at her chin.

Her heart screamed at her to protect itself when Jane's lips landed on hers. Soft skin so familiar yet unknown. Jane's hair tickled her face. The fragility of her emotions came to the forefront, but she was incapable to act.

"One more night," Jane whispered, rubbing the back of her hand across Maura's cheek. "Again."

"What does this mean?" Maura asked, her voice snake and useless, cautious that one false move would scare Jane back into her frightened box.

Without another word, Jane captured her lips again, her fingertips travelled across her shoulders. Responding quickly, expertly, it felt like they knew exactly what they were doing. The longer the kiss lasted, the harder it was for Maura to fight for air.

Gasping for breath, Maura rested a hand on Jane's chest, her fingers lingered closer to her breasts than she'd ever got before. Intimacy she'd reserved only for certain people.

"Don't you want this?" Jane asked, leaning down again, her forehead rested momentarily on Maura's. Maura edged back.

It was exactly what she wanted, but she also wanted a relationship, to give everything to Jane and get just as much in return. "I want more."

Kissing her again knocked the last remaining breath from her lungs. Maura clung to her shoulders, tugging her closer with every move of their lips. She could taste alcohol on her breath, the lingering scent of pepperoni lingered in the air.

"I should go to bed," Maura said, conscious of the mid-morning flight she was booked on, and the hedonism she so desperately desired, yet wished she could avoid.

There was no argument, no words from Jane in protest. Maura threw the couch cushions onto the floor and pulled the spare bed out of it's daytime position.

"That's what you meant by spare bed," Jane said, standing so close that Maura could almost feel her breath on her neck.

"I thought you might need somewhere for Angela or Frankie to stay when they come visit."

"What about you?" Jane asked, trailing her fingertips across Maura's shoulder. She shuddered, her whole body sparked by a single touch.

"I don't know if I'll visit," she said, desperate to hear Jane's plea. When no request for her to stay came, she lowered herself down onto the bed. "One more night."

She didn't request it, nor did she stop Jane from kneeling down on the bed, one leg on either side of her body. She wrapped her arms around Maura's back, their mouths collided in perfect harmony.

In the back of her mind, Maura tried to stop herself, but she'd already taken over. When Jane pushed the sides of her dress down and unhooked her bra, she tugged her vest over her head. She lay back against the bed, breathing in the scent of Jane's body before tossing the vest aside.

She could see the mistake playing out before her, could sense the finality in their actions. With every kiss, every touch of skin, Maura crumbled in her arms, tired from a night of passion and exhausted by the heartbreak to follow.

x

The world had shifted so far that it could never go back. Jane stared at Maura, twirling a finger around the tendrils of her hair. Her heart swelled with happiness. Why had she waited so long? Why did she deny herself so much joy? She trailed her fingertips across her back and down to the bed sheet they'd attempted to cover themselves with. Her lips followed, pressing her skin across the small of her back.

"Stay," she whispered, testing the word out on her lips. She said it louder, a sense of desperation in her voice. This was why she didn't want it to happen, not like this, not when their lives were hundreds of miles apart. "Stay with me. Don't go back to Paris. I need you here."

Maura didn't move. Her back rose and fell with every sleepy breath, her lips quavered a little with the gush of air. It was safe to speak when Maura wasn't listening.

"Please. I don't want to beg, but I can't do this without you. I had the worst day at work, today is going to suck too. Why did I ever think I could teach? Why did I leave BPD? Why did I leave _you_?"

Maura shifted, stretching her arm out as far as it would reach. The space dedicated to Jane's body before had been filled with Maura's slender fingers. She pressed her lips to her shoulder, her elbow, the fingers that hours before pleasured her in ways she never thought possible.

She rolled onto her back, filling the bed. Jane perched on the edge, weighing up the choice to wake her and reclaim her space, or leave her sleeping.

"Tomorrow I'll try to be better," she whispered, kissing her on the cheek. She trundled into the bedroom, her skin tingled with an early morning chill. She crawled under her bedsheets, kicking a leg out. Tossing and turning, she missed the smell of Maura's skin coated in passion. She longed to be in the spare bed, but her back appreciated the relief from the thin mattress. The clock hit two. She had work in the morning. She closed her eyes and drifted off.

x

The empty bed left Maura fraught. She didn't want to believe it could happen again, for Jane to leave, especially not after spending such an intimate night together. The smile on Jane's face after she came down from her orgasm imprinted itself on the backs of Maura's eyelids. It got her worked up just thinking about the pleasure she felt, and the passion that made her whole body tingle. She ambled across the apartment, her heart drummed against her chest. When she found Jane's bedroom, and the bathroom empty, she sunk into a chair at the table, her memories tainted.

Her vision blurred, so much so that she couldn't see the screen of her cellphone. She wiped the tears from her eyes and searched for Jane's number. Her finger poised over the button, she cursed loudly and tossed the phone onto the floor.

"Why won't you be honest with me?" she whispered, her chest heaved with heavy breaths.

After a few minutes, Maura tossed what little items she'd taken out back into her small case and dressed. She had to be at the airport in a couple hours and she wasn't about to wait around while Jane decided what she wanted out of life. Not when she'd already abandoned her, for the second time.

Rushing down the stairs, Maura pushed the front door of the building open and took off down the street. Tears coated her eyelashes. She triple checked she had her passport and the flight information she'd printed at the hotel, before flagging a cab.

If that was how Jane wanted to play it, she would not stick around and suffer.

x

Jane walked down the street with a spring in her step, a smile plastered across her face, and a bag of Maura's favourite pastries. She needed to apologise, and her words were simply not enough. She deserved more, she deserved better, and Jane was finally going to offer it to her.

Entering a second store, she searched the shelves for a bottle of orange juice, as well as the nicest box of chocolates she could find. She handpicked a single Gerber Daisy at a florist on the way back to the apartment, and picked up two takeout coffees from a local chain.

At the bottom of the stairs, she hesitated. What if Maura wouldn't forgive her for causing so much pain? What if the damage had already been done? Then she remembered the intimacy, and she felt herself react.

She ran for the stairs, then slowed. She took the steps one at a time, careful not to spill the coffee or damage the flower. Despite the hesitation, she felt drunk with love and high on lust. Every decision she'd made up until that point had been the wrong one, in one way or another. From hurting Maura, to leaving Boston. No matter how hard she tried to make things right, somehow she fucked it all up again.

Not anymore. Not when the happiness of the person she loved was at stake. She would do better. She would be better, and it all began with telling Maura just how deeply she felt.

Pushing open the apartment door, she found an empty spare bed. The sheets had shifted to the end, and where Maura had been sleeping when she left, there was nothing. She rushed forward, running her hands across the white bedsheets as though it would somehow make a difference. The scent of their love making the night before still lingered in the air, a subtle reminder of what she so desperately desired, and now feared she had lost.

"Maur?" she shouted, placing her purchases on the counter and heading towards the bedroom.

Empty.

Tentatively, she walked towards the bathroom door, hesitating outside before knocking, and finally, she entered the room.

Maura was not there.

She ran back into the living room. Her heart leapt into her throat when she realised that Maura's case was missing.

Lowering her weak knees onto the spare bed, Jane clasped her hands together, holding them steady. She rubbed at the scars on each palm. She longed for Maura to walk through the door. Perhaps she went for coffee, like Jane, but the longer she waited, begging the door to open, the more hopeless she felt.

Until the clock reached eight thirty and she knew her hope was fruitless. Maura wouldn't wait so long to set off for the airport. Check in would have opened half an hour ago. She was a stickler for punctuality, nothing more, nothing less.

She didn't want to believe it, but she had no other option but to accept that Maura had gone back to Paris, leaving her there, alone, with little more than her apology and the last remnants of their night of passion lingering in the air.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author Note : Thank you all for staying with me, despite my dwindling motivation earlier on.**

 **Do you want the good news, or the bad news?**

 **There isn't any bad news /haha, just good: ONE MORE CHAPTER! I just couldn't wrap it up at the end of this one. Pretty sure the next one will be, though.**

 **Warning : for big terrorist style disasters**

* * *

Tapping her cellphone, Maura pressed the power button and waited, and waited. Nothing. She slouched back in her seat and glanced around the airport. A woman and four small children sat on the floor, Trunki cases surrounded them, along with toys and sippy cups. A man, his hair dishevelled and his face forlorn walked from a neighbouring desk with bad news. She only knew that from the way the woman stared to him, her eyes glistened under the harsh airport lighting. He crouched down to the children and within seconds their wails filled the space around them.

Maura sighed. She couldn't remember being a stroppy toddler who wailed at the first sign of trouble, but she could empathise with their need to shout their pain loudly for all to hear.

"Doctor Isles."

She stood up and approached the ticket desk. The man, who earlier introduced himself as Claude, smiled at her. "There's an available seat on the next flight to Boston."

"Thank you," she said, emulating his grin.

"Do you need to check luggage?"

"No. My case is carry on."

He handed over a boarding pass. "You can go straight through to departures. Have a safe flight."

"Thank you," she said.

Security was quick, and within the hour she sat in a coffee house sipping a cup of hot Ethiopian coffee. Despite it being just nine thirty in the morning, she felt like she'd been awake for hours. The early morning drama had taken its toll.

She tried her cellphone again, plugging it into a power supply in the desperate hope that it might spring to life. No such luck.

x

Sixteen times she tried to ring Maura, sixteen calls that went straight to voicemail. She considered heading to the airport herself, but traffic would be a nightmare and she knew she'd never make it in time. She had no money for a spur of the moment ticket, not one that would get her through to international departures. By nine, she gave up and headed to work, late, depleted.

A whole day of paperwork, meetings and listening to people she didn't like talk about the organisation she always claimed to hate. What had her life become? Cut off from her family, separated from Maura in space, time and emotion. There was nothing for her in Washington, nothing that she cared for, and nothing that she wanted.

But what else could she do but see it through? She wasn't a quitter. She worked damn hard to get through the academy, even harder to rise up to detective, and she'd thrown it away on a whim. An unexpected call from an ex-boyfriend who didn't even bother to show up and introduce her to the opportunity himself.

She'd been swayed by ideas of grandeur, a whisper from a handsome man who neither satisfied her, nor wanted her. In the month she'd been away, he'd found someone new, someone leggy and blonde, who liked to strut around in tight dresses that barely went below the upper thigh. She wasn't jealous, she was just angry that she got herself caught up in it.

When all she really wanted was sitting on a plane to Paris, wondering why she'd left her again.

If she would just let her know that she'd got the four messages she left on her phone.

She didn't deserve nice things. She deserved to go back to Boston with her tail between her legs and beg for her old job back. The position would no doubt have been filled. They didn't hold posts open for cops who gave up the game, least not those who swanned off to the other side of the world for a brief sabbatical.

x

Home sweet home. Maura entered the house and felt an instant, insurmountable sadness. Jane was not there. She didn't expect her to be, but she still felt disappointed. Anger billowed beneath the surface, bubbling up like a witches cauldron, spewing hot potions out into the world.

"I'm warning you," a voice shouted from the top of the stairs. "I have a gun and I'm not afraid to use it."

"It's just me, Angela," Maura said, pursing her lips. She longed to want to smile, but the whole journey to Boston she felt miserable. "When did you get a gun?"

"Maura!" she screeched, rushing down the stairs and wrapping both hands around her. Maura felt the sting of tears as she sunk into her embrace. "I don't really have a gun, but no intruder's gonna know that."

She forged a smile, the best that she could do under the circumstances, and swiped at her eyes. "Good. I wouldn't want to return to find bullet holes in my walls."

"Oh." Angela pressed her lips together and stepped back.

"What happened?"

"I may have, accidentally, knocked a hole into your bathroom wall."

"Accidentally?" Maura asked, her eyes wide. "What happened?"

"It all started when Frankie brought over a mallet."

"He brought it into my bathroom?"

"No. Into the house."

"Then how, pray tell, did you end up knocking a hole in the wall?"

"Cockroaches."

Pursing her lips, Maura narrowed her eyes. An overwhelming sense of panic passed through her, leaving her sickly. "My house doesn't have cockroaches."

"It didn't."

"How?"

"The exterminator said it was the heat, and the dampness of the bathroom."

"Why was the bathroom damp?" Maura rubbed her temple. The dryness of the airplane and lack of drinking had left her dehydrated.

"I had to move into the main house when the pipe in the guest house burst."

"Pardon?" Maura turned away and headed for the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of wine, noting with derision that it was her Bodega Noémia Malbec, and emptied the contents into her mouth without pause.

"Steady there," Angela said, stepping up beside her. She stepped back when she saw the anger in Maura's eyes. Her cheeks reddened. "Ron came over, we didn't have time to buy wine. He said he'd replace it."

"What happened with the guest house?" she asked, gritting her teeth.

"The water company called to say the water was off so I stayed at Ron's, next thing you know Bobby from next door called me up and told me the garden was flooded."

"Bobby?" Maura sighed. "Robert?"

"That's the one." Angela poured herself a glass of wine. "When in Rome!"

"We're in Boston."

Angela stared her, her eyebrows tugged together. "Never mind that. The pipe under the guest house had become brittle, the whole place flooded out."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"You were on vacation!"

"I was there to work," she said, sitting down at the dining table and running her hands through her hair. "I wanted you to keep me updated on the property. I left it in your care."

"I took good care of it, except for the hole in the bathroom wall, like I said, it was an accident."

"Okay." Maura closed her eyes and burrowed her face into her hands. Exhaustion seeped into her bones. She couldn't move. Tears threatened to fall. The last thing she wanted when she returned home was to share it with someone else. Excepting Jane.

"You look pissed, and upset," Angela said, perching on the seat beside her. She rested the palm of her hand on Maura's shoulder. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

"I need some time on my own," Maura whispered, not daring to look up.

Angela's chair scraped across the floor. "I'll tell Ron I'm staying at his tonight, I have work soon, I'll get out of the way."

Sitting up, Maura called to her, until she turned back. "How is the guest house now?"

"Ron's friend Stevie is fixing it up, he knows all about insurance jobs, and he's talked to the insurance company."

The whole thing sounded rather vague, but she didn't have the energy. "Thanks."

"I hope you're feeling better," Angela said, kissing her lightly on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Once the front door had closed ten minutes later, fresh tears coated her cheeks. Everything was a mess, and she didn't know how to fix it.

x

Jane stood at the back of a classroom, observing. She'd spent most of the day watching other people doing their jobs, desperate to sink her teeth into…something, anything. Her mind was in tatters, and having little outside stimulation did nothing for her fractured mind.

"Hey you," Agent Davies said, as the class wrapped up and the students filed out of the room. "Not seen you properly since you started, how's it going?"

She hesitated. She could be honest, he was a big boy and he could take criticism. On the other hand, he was effectively her boss, and she wanted to make a good impression. Forcing her lips to curve at the edges, she shrugged. "You know how it is, lots to learn, but I'm sure I'll settle in."

"Great!" They set off out of the classroom and down the corridor. At the entrance to the break room, he stopped, resting his fingertips gently against her elbow. "We should catch up sometime, you know, make up for lost time."

"What happened to Rebecca?"

"Ah, didn't work out." He edged closer, his breath hot against her ear. "She wasn't who I really wanted."

Closing her eyes, Jane tried not to breath in the scent of his cologne, but it attacked her senses leaving her sick to the stomach. She missed Maura. She hated the thought of his body writhing over her skin, the memory of his grunts infiltrated her brain. A moment of passion, a moment of weakness, that at the time felt okay, now felt utterly horrifying.

"Ahh," Jane said, emulating him. "Yeah, that won't work out."

Turning tail, she glanced briefly at his open mouth as she strolled off down the corridor. It took a moment for him to attempt to respond.

"I thought…' he shouted.

She shrugged. "Missed the boat, pal."

x

A bottle of wine, a pile of medical journals, a new cell, and a book on the effect of social media on relationships later and Maura lay on the couch, wondering what to do next. Her day had been productive, and enjoyable, but all in all, she was bored.

The last month and a half had been filled with excitement, and pain, and she didn't know how to move forward. Despite the let down that was her relationship with Jane, she still enjoyed the majority of their time together, and now she was alone.

She nursed the last glass of wine in the bottle, contemplating opening up a second.

"Do I go back to Paris," she muttered, taking a sip. "Do I go back to DC? Do I return to work?"

Carrying her empty glass into the kitchen, she uncorked a Cabernet Sauvignon and settled back in the couch, filling the glass with red wine. Every time Jane popped into her head, she swallowed a mouthful.

"To your inability to commit," Maura said, holding up the glass to the room. She gulped down a mouthful. "To all the times you never said you were sorry."

The more she drank, the more tears streamed down her face, until her cheeks were almost as red as the wine. She placed her half empty glass on the table and curled up on the couch. Her head throbbed.

"Jane," she whispered, dialling her number on her landline and waiting for the voicemail message to finish. "Get a new one, Jane, the Red Sox haven't won the World Series since twenty-thirteen. You really hate me, don't you? Fucked it all up because you don't want me. Maybe I don't want you anymore, maybe I don't want to lick your labia or push my fingers up to my cervix. Your cervix. I'll do my own, until I scream louder than you. You made me want you and then you left, and I hate that you did that."

Squeezing her eyes tightly together, she dropped her cell onto the carpet beside the couch and sat up. Downing the last of her wine, she ambled upstairs.

x

The next morning, Jane entered the break room at work to a crowd of people gathered around a beaten up old television. She clutched her large takeout coffee and approached the back of the group. She didn't really know anybody yet, and despite her outgoing nature, she felt shy and nervous.

"Oh gosh," a petite lady muttered, followed by other such sentiments. Jane tried to recall her name but fell short.

A man entered the room, his broad shoulders and height made him appear intimidating, even to Jane's less than petite figure. "What's with the crowd?"

She shrugged. "Don't know."

"Hey, Celia," he said, tapping the small lady on the shoulder. "What's going on?"

"Massive gas explosion in Paris." Jane's ears pricked up, her blood ran cold. "An apartment building, six shops, and a school have all been damaged."

"Terrorism?" he asked.

"A burst gas mains," Celia clarified. "Someone was working in the area."

"Did they say where?" Jane asked, struggling to swallow the lump in the back of her throat.

"Something eight?" She shrugged and returned her attention to the television screen.

Pushing her way between two people, Jane ignored their protests. She stood front and centre, staring at the screen, her heart in her mouth. She took her cell from the case on her belt and dialled Maura's French number.

"Pick up, pick up," she whispered, but the call went straight to voicemail. She would be there by now. "Maura, I don't care if you're pissed, answer your damn phone. I need to know that you're okay."

"You know someone in Paris?" Celia asked, and the group backed away slightly, giving her the space she needed. A man with glasses and a toupee stood up and offered her his seat.

"My…my…" Jane couldn't find the words to describe who Maura was, something which hurt her more than she realised. "Someone I love."

"I hope she's alright," a portly man said, followed by similar gratitudes from the rest of the group.

"Eight arrondissement," Celia piped up, pointing at the screen. "Right near the big triumph arch."

"The Arc de Triumph," Jane whispered, her voice growing smaller with every breath. She barely noted the perfect pronunciation, as trained by Maura, as she tried her cell again. "Maur, please. Where are you? Are you safe?"

The presenter on the channel filled the screen. "We've got official reports that the gas explosion in Paris has resulted in fatalities, though at this time we have no further information."

Springing to her feet again, Jane sprinted out of the room, not stopping despite her colleagues protestations. She didn't need their support, she didn't want the platitudes of strangers. She needed to know that Maura was safe.

Climbing into her car, she set off across the city, not stopping until she reached the airport. She dialled Maura's number once more, to no avail. She tried her US number again, but it went straight to voicemail.

Inside the terminal building, she stood with a group of tourists watching the ticker tape across the bottom of the news, updating them frequently on the death toll and other significant information. The images on the screen made it impossible to tell exactly where the explosion had occurred.

"Ticket to Paris," Jane shouted to the man behind the counter. He jumped, sitting backwards slightly. "Please."

He narrowed his eyes, watching the tears stroll down her cheeks, before he started tapping at his computer.

"How are you paying?"

She pulled out her wallet, and fished through her cards. "Can I split it?"

"Maximum three different payment methods."

She handed over two credit cards. Chewing on her bottom lip, she weighed up the choice between her bank card and her savings account. A woman behind her squealed. She span around in time to watch the death toll jump by half a dozen people.

"Put the rest on here," she said, handing over the card for her savings account.

An hour later, Jane sat in the departure lounge waiting, desperately hoping that the four hours until her flight would fly by. She tried Maura's numbers again, one after the other, begging the world to let her answer.

"Maura," she whispered, after her voicemail message played again.

The phone went silent. Jane pulled it from her ear and stared in horror at the blank screen. She rooted in her satchel for her phone charger, then groaned. She could see it on the bedside table, waiting for her return from home. The only reason she had her passport was for administration purposes at her new workplace.

With no method of communication, and trickles of news, she waited for her flight, not knowing what faced her on the other end.

x

"Maura!" Angela shouted from the living room.

Hearing the panic in her voice, she rushed down the stairs, tucking her towel carefully around her front and tossing her damp hair back over one shoulder. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"Did you see the news?" she asked, her face paled as she pointed towards the television set.

Gritting her teeth, Maura took a cursory glance at the screen, then stared at Angela. "This is just about news? You scared me!"

"But," she began, drifting off.

Maura returned her gaze to the television long enough to see exactly which news she was referring to. A chill travelled down her spine. She sunk into the nearest chair. "What?"

"They said it was a gas explosion."

"Sixteen people confirmed dead," Maura read, wringing her hands together on her lap. "It's right round the corner from my apartment."

"Aren't you glad you came home?" Angela asked, grasping one of her hands and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm glad, I'm sure everyone else will be too."

"I…" Her heart jumped, her mouth went dry. She tried to put force behind her voice, but it came out more of a squeak. "Jane."

"She knows you're here though, doesn't she?"

"Not exactly," Maura said, holding onto the front of her towel and heading back up the stairs. She rushed around her bedroom, searching for her cell. The towel slipped from her body. She sighed and lifted it onto her lap as she pulled the SIM card out of her old phone. Unwrapping the new cell she'd purchased the day before, she waited impatiently for it to complete its set up. A knock at the door pulled Maura's attention away. She pulled the towel around her front. "Come in."

Angela peered around the door. "I can't get through to Janie, her phone must be off."

"I'm just checking to see if she tried calling me," Maura said, placing the cell on her bed. Angela sat down beside her. Maura stood. She slipped into the bathroom with her yoga outfit and came out with a smaller towel wrapped around her head. She retrieved her phone, her eyes wide when she realised how many missed calls she had. "I guess she's tried calling, a lot."

"Why?" Angela asked, standing up beside her.

Maura closed her eyes and shook her head. "She thinks I'm in Paris."

"Oh."

Taking out her American SIM, Maura replaced it with her French one. The most recent missed calls were there, along with several voicemail messages. Maura clicked on them, one by one, her heart ached as she listened to the sound of Jane's voice, desperate to get through. Without caring to switch SIM, she dialled Jane's number.

"Jane, why is your phone off? I'm okay. I'm in Boston. I…" Words caught in her throat, beyond informing her of her current location, she didn't quite know what to say. If Jane had received her last message…her cheeks burned. She shook her head. "Call me when you pick this up."

"She's probably busy working," Angela said.

"I guess so."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author Note : Thank you to everyone for reading and commenting on this fic, it was only ever going to be a brief story that was a bit of fun and it turned into something a little unexpected. Then again, when are any of my stories that simple? It's been a fun ride, and I hope you enjoy the ending. Until next time... xxx**

* * *

By evening, Maura had heard no word from Jane. She sat across the dining table from Angela, absentmindedly pushing food across her plate, pondering the situation she'd got herself into and how she would ever recover from the fracture in their relationship.

"Maybe we should drive up to DC," Angela said, resting a hand over Maura's arm. She stared at the fingers wrapped around her skin.

"No," Maura said, shaking her head. The city was tainted with a momentary lapse in judgment, and a failed attempt at connecting with Jane. Their successes were their failures and she didn't want to relive them quite so soon.

"She's not responded to any of our calls, or SMS? I'm worried. What if she's done something stupid?"

"Like what?" Maura looked her in the eye. Angela shook her head and glanced away. Maura took hold of her arm, rougher than she had a moment ago. "What do you know, Angela?"

Her eyebrows tugged together. "I know as much as you, which ain't very much. Janie always rang me back within an hour of me ringing her when you were in Paris. Could she have gone?"

"Gone where?"

"To Paris!"

Maura sighed and shook her head. "No. I don't think so."

"Then why isn't she getting in touch?"

Bowing her head, Maura gritted her teeth. "If you must know, we…got into an argument."

"That doesn't mean she can't reply to her mother!"

"I don't know why she's not contacted you, but she knows you and I are close and I've already tried a dozen times. Perhaps she thinks I'm using you to contact her, knowing she'll pick up."

"But she isn't!"

"No." Maura sighed. "She isn't. Maybe in a couple of days she'll have settled down."

x

The flight landed when it was still dark outside. Jane draw out as much money as she could afford from the nearest ATM and caught a cab across the city. By the time she paid, and got out, she had barely enough money left for a couple of cups of espresso and a pain au chocolat. She groaned and walked along the street near the apartment. If Maura was okay, if she was home, then everything would be okay.

The closer she got to the apartment, the harder her heart sunk in her chest. Police cordons were taped up all around the area. She forced herself to swallow the lump in the back of her throat, despite the tears that still threatened to fall.

"Pardon," she said, approaching a uniformed officer patrolling the area. "Parlez vous Anglaise?"

"Non!" he snapped, turning away.

Jane stepped in front of him again. "Mes amie? Habite…over there."

He shook his heads. "Nobody there. Go!"

"No. I need to find her. Where's the nearest hôpital?"

"Hôpital Saint Charles."

"Okay." Her hands moved uncontrollably at her sides. Gripping the material of her pants suit leg, she stared at him in desperation. "Où est?"

"The…" he paused, pondering his words. "Tournez a gauche, two droit, one, two, tournez a droite. Aller."

"Aller?" She frowned. Her mind wouldn't work. The flight had left her exhausted and her attempt to speak French was pitiful.

"Go, go on," he said, pointing straight ahead.

"Forwards? Straight on?"

"On, on," he said, before muttering something in French that Jane could neither translate nor understand.

She waved up a hand and set off. "Merci beaucoup. Au revoir."

"Bon journée," he shouted.

x

The trip to the hospital was pointless. Jane didn't speak enough French and nobody seemed willing to help her. It was the early hours of the morning, and doctors and nurses were hidden away behind closed doors working on the injured. She fled back out into the night.

The police cordon went all around the area, blocking almost every way through to the apartment. It was late. Jane's feet were tired and hunger growled in her stomach. Some distance from the original police officer, the cordon travelled down a block, leaving her free to enter the apartment building she'd left a week ago.

"Shit," she muttered, standing outside the door to the apartment. She searched her satchel, knowing full well that she'd left the apartment keys with Maura. She stared through the keyhole. The apartment was silent. If Maura wasn't in the hospital, she could be asleep.

Regardless of their broken friendship…whatever it had become…she knocked, and waited. Until she was sure that nobody was coming. No lights turned on. No sign of life at all.

She slouched onto the floor, her body weak with jet lag, as she rested her head against the door frame. She closed her eyes, for just a moment.

x

A night of fitful sleep was enough to leave Maura in a state of exhaustion and anxiety. She worried for her friends in Paris. Even though she had backed up her novel, she panicked over the handwritten notes she didn't save. She wondered if the cafe down the street from the apartment was still standing, whether she would have to grieve the woman she talked to every day at the boulangerie. When she returned, what state would she find the streets she frequented on a daily basis?

The only small amount of relief lay in the fact she had not chosen to purchase a property. Though the potential loss, or damage, fell to her landlord who made her smile whenever he visited and she didn't wish harm on him or his belongings.

"Still no response," Angela said, knocking on Maura's bedroom door. She tucked the bed sheets up around her body and invited her in. "Why isn't Jane answering her phone?"

"She's probably busy," Maura said, though the lack of communication unsettled her further.

"Nobody is too busy to return a call from their mother!"

"No." Maura sighed. She felt low, hopeless. She had no control over what had happened to a place she felt at home, and Angela fussing over Jane going off the grid did nothing to help. She wrapped her fingers around the bedsheets, tugging them closer. She worried about Jane, she couldn't help it, but she knew her concerns were unnecessary. Jane would be in touch.

"What do we do?"

"What do we do about what?" Maura asked, her lips tight.

"About Jane."

"I don't know, Angela." She rubbed her temple. The incessant headache refused to depart. "I only came home to pick up some things on my way back to Paris. I have a flight this evening."

"You're leaving, already?"

"My apartment is rented for another four and a half months. I must return."

x

"Bonjour?"

Jane lifted her head gradually. It was too heavy to move quickly. She opened her eyes and stared into the eyes of a little old lady who lived across the hall.

"Bonjour," she said, in return. The lady didn't speak English, they'd established that weeks ago. The conversation that would follow was almost fruitless. Their ability to communicate with each other was well established after many angry moments of miscommunication.

"You need help?" she asked, her words slow and methodical, but laced with an almost British accent.

Jane stared at her, confusion etched across her face. "You speak English?"

"I forget the words." She reached a hand out to Jane. "Français has become my new tongue."

"Your new tongue?" Jane narrowed her eyes. She hadn't had enough sleep for this.

"My mother tongue est Anglaise."

"Oh." The British accent wasn't wrong. She pulled herself up by the door handle. "Then why did you shout at me in French? Why did you pretend you didn't understand?"

"I spoke Anglaise when I came here," she said. "The French knocked it out of me. I don't use it anymore. I forget. You reminded me of me when I was a small fille. Confidently rude, that's what the French used to say."

"I'm locked out," Jane said, reverting quickly to her own mother tongue. "Please help me."

"Where is Docteur Isles?"

"I don't know. Have you seen her? Is she okay?"

"She left for America." She held her hand out. "Come with me."

Hesitating, Jane reached for her hand and followed her across the hallway and into the opposite apartment. She'd never been there before. Their clashes had been in the communal areas. It was a carbon copy of their own apartment, in reverse. Two bedrooms and a bathroom off to the side. They entered the kitchen and living area.

"Key!" the woman said, picking up a set. "For your home."

"Thank you," Jane whispered, choking back a spurt of emotion. "I'm sorry I was so rude."

"The French like you to try. You are in their country, speak their language, even if you do it badly. Eventually, you will get better."

Nodding, Jane held her hand out to the woman. She took it again. "Jane Rizzoli, I'm sorry I never introduced myself."

She grunted and shook her head.

Jane sighed, searching her brain. "Je m'appelle Jane Rizzoli."

"M'appelle Docteur Elise Bordeaux."

"No wonder you and Maura got along. Bon journée. Merci," Jane said, heading for the door.

x

"You didn't have to drive me to the airport," Maura said, clutching a case in one hand and her purse in the other. "At least let me give you twenty dollars for the gas."

"Nonsense," Angela said, waving a hand between them. She stepped forward and pulled Maura into her arms. "You be safe. If your apartment isn't okay to live in, go find a hotel."

"I will, I promise." Maura rested her chin on Angela's shoulder and sighed. She dropped a twenty dollar bill on the passenger seat. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too. Now go, before I flood the airport with blubbing.

Maura rolled her eyes, a smirk spread across her face. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Stepping away, Angela stood guard as Maura trailed her case away. It would probably require an excessive baggage charge on her return journey, but Maura felt happier knowing she had some of her favourite things to surround her. Jane was clearly ignoring her calls, and she wasn't about to start feeling guilty about that.

"Bye!" Angela shouted, as Maura turned and waved on her way through the entrance to security.

x

Somehow Maura had her phone charger. A spur of the moment trip across the world, hundreds of miles, and still she remembered to take the one thing that Jane needed above all else. The socket adapter sat by the wall, waiting for its cable, abandoned by its owner. Useless. Jane scouted the apartment for two hours until she found a crumpled up 20 note in the pocket of a pair of Maura's slacks.

"Result!" she shouted, tossing her arm into the air.

She ran out of the apartment, jogging down the street towards the row of shops she'd visited countless times. In her excitement, she forgot around the destruction surrounding her. The street was empty. Very few people lingered long enough to hold a conversation. The police cordon blocked off a couple of streets to the right.

On the corner, she found the store she needed, still standing in amongst the mess. It was just a few feet from what looked like the epicentre of the explosion. Shaken, Jane clutched the plastic packaging and returned equally fast to the apartment, stopping off at the boulangerie to pick up some bread for dinner.

"Come on," Jane muttered, waiting for the empty battery symbol on her phone to disappear and the apple to shine brightly on the screen. Ten minutes later and she stared at the dozens of missed calls from Maura. Most of which were in the last twelve hours. "Oh, thank God."

She lay down on the couch, her legs over the arm, listening to the voicemail messages. For the first time since she saw the news in the break room, she felt a sense of calm settle over her. Then reality struck.

Maura was in Boston.

She'd travelled all the way to Paris, and for what? A wasted journey.

The worst thing she felt, as it settled in the pit of her stomach, was the panic that she had no way home. No money to her name, her credit was at its limit, and she was unable to work in a foreign country.

She felt sick.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she reclaimed her breath, and dialled Maura's number.

Voicemail.

She screamed loudly and tossed the phone down by her side. "Are you serious?"

x

It was midnight by the time Maura exited the airport, her cases in hand. She caught a cab headed to the city, and hoped to find her apartment building still standing when she arrived. The man talked in fast French, expecting her to follow his words. But she couldn't focus. She was tired. It was the middle of the night in her mind and she didn't much appreciate being talked at.

On the corner of the block, she felt relief to see the building still standing, despite the damage surrounding it. Her heart ached for the carnage.

She unlocked the apartment door and stepped inside, dropping her bags by the door, her arms tired from carrying them up two flights. She fumbled around for the light switch.

"I've got a gun!" a voice shouted into the darkness.

Maura clicked the switch and turned towards the voice, her eyes glistened and her heart beat faster. In seconds, Jane stared back, as confused as Maura.

"You sound like your mother," Maura whispered. "You're as dishonest as her, too."

"Not my fault they wouldn't let me bring my gun," Jane said, stepping forwards.

The gap closed quickly. Jane scooped her up, then stepped back as quickly as she embraced her. Maura slipped off her jacket and tossed it onto the couch. She returned her attention to Jane, the woman who had flown all the way to Paris, and for what?

"What are you doing here?" she asked, a meter away.

"Me?" Jane shrugged. "Worried about the apartment."

"Just the apartment?"

"No." Her voice broke.

Maura felt emotion creep up on her, and she expected her next words to be as shattered as Jane's. "Oh."

A foot separated them. Maura edged forward, matching Jane's movements. "I fucking hate this."

"Pardon?" Maura narrowed her eyes, confusion etched across her face.

"I fucking hate what you do to me," she said, then shook her head. "I didn't mean that."

"What did you mean?"

"I hate that I don't know how to do this."

"Do what?" Maura asked, her knee collided with Jane's.

Jane's leg moved further forward, stopping between Maura's. "Don't leave me. Don't live somewhere else. I need you here, with me.

"Here?" Maura raised an eyebrow. "In Paris?"

"Wherever."

"You left me."

"How could I say goodbye?" Jane swiped the back of her hand across her cheek. "I didn't want to have to say it to you. I can't do it again. I won't."

"I thought you left me in DC."

"I went to get pastries."

"Pardon?" Maura stepped back, a heavy weight landed in the pit of her stomach. "You didn't leave?"

"No. I went out and I came back and you'd gone. Then that fucking explosion." The tears flowed faster, uncontrollably. "I thought you were dead."

"My phone broke. I went to Boston."

"When?"

"When I left DC."

"You were in Boston the whole time?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I tried! All I got was voicemail."

"My battery died," Jane whispered, her voice smaller than before. She shook her head and wiped her eyes. "I want to stay here with you and eat French bread until we die."

"That's a very strange request," Maura laughed.

"I mean it," Jane said, standing so close her breath tickled Maura's cheek. "And not just because I spent all my money so now I'm stuck here."

"Why did you spend all your money?"

"I thought you were here. I thought you were hurt."

"I'm okay."

"I can see that."

"What about your job?"

"I hate it. Why did you let me take a job at the Fucking Bastard Investigators?"

Maura giggled. "Jane!"

"Shut up," Jane said.

Taken aback, Maura stared at her, aghast. "No!"

The word cut off at the end as Jane slipped her hands across the back of her neck and leaned in. Their lips collided and the world melted away. The pain, the exhaustion dissipated and their lips merged in passion.

Jane stepped back, her mouth wide open as a bellowing laughter filled the air. Maura narrowed her eyes, already missing her lips, and rested her hands on her hips.

"Sorry," Jane said, still chuckling away.

"What is so funny?"

"If I'd just been honest with you to begin with, the night I kissed you, then we wouldn't have wasted two weeks. We both flew halfway around the world, and back again, now we're back where we started."

Maura's lips curved. "When you put it like that, it is rather silly."

"I'd do it all again, if it meant we got to now," Jane said, interlinking her fingers with Maura's and lifting their hands up between them. "I mean it. Me and you, you and I, whatever the correct English is. I want to be with you, and I hope you want me back. Otherwise I'm gonna be so embarrassed, and stuck here in perpetual shame for the rest of my life."

"Shut up, Jane," Maura said, smirking. Jane didn't speak. Maura leaned in, cutting her off before she could even begin.

"Does that mean I'm forgiven?"

Stifling a yawn, Maura let go and covered her mouth. "I'm tired, I think it's time for bed."

"Oh. Okay." Jane nodded and let go of her other hand, depleted. "Night then."

She headed off across the room, her head bowed. Maura's tried not to smile. "Jane."

"Yeah?" She didn't turn.

"I'm not that tired," she said, holding out a hand.

Jane's smile spread across her face as she span around. She took Maura's hand and followed her across the apartment towards Maura's bedroom.

x

A loaf of bread tucked under one arm, Jane's sweaty palm gripped tightly to Maura's, ignoring the equally damp skin tucked into her own. She marched down the road, her shoulder bashed against Maura's every so often.

"I thought you would have wanted to stay in bed this morning," Maura said, falling into step beside her.

"And miss our walk in the sunshine to the boulangerie, and a cup of espresso?" Jane asked, swinging their arms purposefully between them.

"It's been three days, I thought you'd have got bored."

"Bored?" Jane scoffed. "The only thing that would keep me from une boule and deux espresso is you, in our bed, screaming my name."

Her cheeks reddened. Maura narrowed her eyes. "Doctor Bordeaux will think you're trying to murder me."

Jane laughed. "Docteur Bordeaux and I have come to an arrangement."

"What does that mean?" Maura asked, raising her eyebrows. She let go of Jane's hand and walked backwards in front of her. "I thought you hated the woman. Now you're using the correct pronunciation of her title."

"She won't ask me about my sex life, and I won't ask her about hers." Jane pouted. "If we ever get as soppy as her and Enzo when we're that old, I give you permission to slap me upside the head."

Giggling, Maura reached for Jane's fingers, holding one hand out between them. A man on a bicycle rode towards them. She stared at Jane, her eyes wide, her lip tucked between her teeth. "When we're that old?"

"Watch out!" Jane shouted, pulling Maura to one side as the bicycle sped past. Her arm draped around Maura's waist, her heart drummed against Maura's.

"I didn't notice," Maura whispered, staring deep into her eyes.

Clearing her throat, Jane pressed her lips to Maura's. "I'll be your eyes, even when you lose your sight."

"When I'm old?"

"When we're both old."

"What if you lose your sight?"

"Then we'll fly back to Boston and reclaim Bass to be our seeing-eye turtle."

"Tortoise," Maura said. She sighed, staring off into the distance a moment. "I do miss him, though. We should visit the next time we're in Boston."

"At least he's contributing to the furtherment of his species," Jane said, grinning. "Go Bass babies!"

Maura leaned forward, her forehead rested against Jane's. "I don't need him as much as I used to, because of you."

"You're most welcome."

Maura narrowed her eyes. "Why did you say that with a mocking tone?"

"I did not!"

"Jane!"

"What?"

"Pardon."

"What?"

"Jane!"

"I could do this all day."

"I know you could," Maura whispered, pressing her lips together. She took the packet of bread out of Jane's arm and sped off in the direction of the apartment.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"I'm going to have breakfast."

"Without me?" Jane asked, rushing to keep up.

"I wouldn't dare."

"Good," Jane said, falling into step beside her again. "I don't want to do anything without you again."

"You're getting soppy in your old age," Maura said, smirking. She stopped at the door to the apartment building.

"Who are you calling old?" Jane asked, narrowing her eyes. She pulled out her set of keys as Maura put the code into the keypad.

Maura sighed, pushing open the door. "Ah, Jane, you're like a fine wine. You get better with age, and I wouldn't even consider looking for something different."

"Are we having wine with breakfast?"

"Didn't you drink enough last night?" Maura asked, heading up the stairs.

"No."

"Really?" Maura paused. They made it halfway up the second flight of stairs before she stopped and stared into Jane's eyes. "So the wine wasn't what made you more willing to push your tongue so far up…"

Jane cleared her throat and placed a hand over Maura's mouth. "Not so loudly. The neighbours might hear you."

"I thought you had an agreement with Docteur Bordeaux."

"I do, the less detail, the better," Jane said, rushing up the last steps and unlocking the door.

"Maybe after breakfast you could repeat last night, since I've never felt so worked up so quickly in all of my life."

Wrapping a hand around the back of Maura's dress, she gripped her tightly enough to pull her through the door, as her lips searched for Maura's.

"Breakfast first," Maura said into the kiss.

"Spoil sport," Jane growled as Maura walked into the kitchen.

Smirking, Maura unzipped her dress. "Would it help if we ate in our birthday suits?"

"Let's celebrate birthdays every day," Jane said, almost falling over as she tugged her shorts down to her ankles.


End file.
